Free Withholding Evidence by Rachel Grant Page B

all dead.”
    “Not all of them. You’re still alive.”
    “Yeah, but we’ve established that you aren’t studying me.” He frowned. “I’m a former SEAL. I’ve been on a lot of ops.” He hesitated for a moment, then added, “I’ve killed people. There are reasons certain people could want me dead. Until we know who, I refuse to endanger you—or anyone.” He swore and rubbed his hand across his face. “I still need to figure out how I’m going to tell Tyler I can’t play ball with him. I never should have promised. I didn’t know what else to say.”
    It was clear Keith was resolute, and no amount of argument would convince him. And what if he was right? What if this had been a deliberate attack, revenge for the orders he’d carried out while in the navy?
    She, of all people, knew history. She knew what clandestine operations entailed. She didn’t know the details of his particular ops, but she had highly educated insight into the nature of his work. “Will you call me?”
    He shook his head. “No. No contact until this is sorted out. Period.”
    She crossed her arms. “You still owe me dinner.”
    He laughed. “Babe, I promise, as soon as we know it’s safe, you can pick the restaurant. Hell, I’ll fly you to Paris if you want.”
    “I prefer Italy.”
    He hooked both index fingers in her belt loops and tugged her forward. His kiss was hard, fierce. A sexy, sweet, sad good-bye. “Just promise you’ll wait for me, and you’ve got a deal.”

C HAPTER S EVEN

    “Y OU CAN’T EVEN keep your nose clean for six hours,” Rav said when he arrived at the scene.
    Keith grimaced. “You never said I had to keep my nose clean. You just said there’d be a proctology exam.”
    “Well, I figured you knew you’d have to pass it.” Then Rav smiled and held out his hand. They clasped wrists, and Rav gave him a one-armed hug with a pat on the back. “Shit, Hatch. This sort of thing isn’t supposed to happen at home.”
    Keith nodded and rubbed his forehead. “The family next door lost their house. They all could have died. Trina could have died. All my years in the navy, and I’ve never been so scared.”
    Trina’s coworkers had taken her home. It was just Rav, Dominick, and Keith standing in the shadows— never stand in the light when you’re a target —on the edge of the makeshift HQ. It looked freakily like a field HQ in a war zone. Except this was two hundred yards from his home . Or rather, where his home used to be.
    Thunder rent the air, and the storm finally made good on its promise. Fat drops came slowly at first, but within minutes, it became a downpour. Keith didn’t budge; he just stood letting the rain wash the blast dust from his clothes. He’d buttoned up his torn shirt after the medic had tweezed gravel and glass from his back and arms. For all the good it did him, the destroyed shirt and scuffed jeans were the only clothes he had. The only anything he had.
    Absolutely everything he owned had been in the town house, including his Land Cruiser, which had been parked in the garage.
    He turned to the two men. The pity party would happen later. “What security do you have for Trina?”
    “She should be okay at work,” Curt said. “Marines provide security on the base, which is particularly tight these days, but I’ve already called and requested armed marines be stationed inside her building.”
    Keith nodded. “Good. As soon as the press releases her name, she’ll be a target. The bomber will think she’s important to me.” And she was important to him, which was a little crazy when he considered that he’d only met her yesterday morning. He looked at Rav. “What can you do about security for her outside the Navy Yard?”
    “One of my operatives is guarding her apartment already. He’ll be assigned to her whenever she’s not at work, but she’ll need to cooperate and call him to escort her when she leaves.”
    “She’s smart. She’ll cooperate. Private security will